Cry of the Cicada
by Shira Lansys
Summary: Before the Battle of Hogwarts, Bellatrix Lestrange had a child. One that was kept secret from the Wizarding World, for her own safety. Raised by muggles, she is now eleven and heading to Hogwarts. She's not stupid, though; she knows things are being kept from her. Determined to get answers, she makes a pact with Teddy Lupin to find out what people are keeping from them. ABANDONED
1. Prologue

_Draco wanted to cover his ears as his aunt's screams echoed through the house. This wasn't unusual – he'd heard her scream often enough. In joy, sometimes, when a snatcher fed her a titbit of news that usually made Draco want to vomit. In pleasure, on the rare occasion when the Dark Lord visited her, and he allowed Bellatrix to pleasure him. In pain, maybe, when _he_ was pleasuring her and it went down the path that both of them liked. _

_Never had he heard a sound like this. It was as horrible as the sound of someone under the cruciatus curse – in a way, it was worse. He'd never heard his strong, wilful aunt like this, and he honestly had doubts as to whether she would survive this. _

_His eyes flickered over to his father, who was sitting comfortably on an armchair, reading his book. Anyone would think that he couldn't hear the terrible noise coming from upstairs; only the whiteness of his fingers as he tightly clutched at the book gave his true emotions away. _

_The worst bit was yet to come, though, Draco knew. The worst bit would be when it was over, and he'd have to visit his aunt and hold his baby cousin. He'd have to gently touch it, knowing what it was. An abomination. _

_He pictured a child with the face of the Dark Lord and shuddered. _

* * *

_It looked surprisingly normal, Draco thought to himself. 'It' he called it – he found it hard to give it a gender, as though that might humanise it. Any offspring of the Dark Lord should not be humanised. _

"_She's beautiful," Lucius said stiffly. He might have put more effort into his acting had _he_ actually been in the room, but _he _wanted nothing to do with a baby of that age, so it seemed Lucius was safe. _

_Aunt Bellatrix didn't seem to notice the forced tone. "She's _his_," she whispered reverently. "_Ours_." _

_Narcissa twitched, and Draco thought he could understand why. She wanted to caution her sister; to remind her that she may have birthed the girl, but the Dark Lord could very easily decide to take her away, particularly if anyone thought that Bellatrix being the mother of his child might raise her status to be on more equal footing to the Dark Lord._

_Lucius was not as reserved. "Be careful what you say, Bellatrix," he warned. _

_Draco watched carefully as his aunt's face darkened. He knew that every person in the room – minus the infant – was remembering the tentative hours when Bellatrix first fell pregnant. They were recalling the hours they waited for the Dark Lord's decision as to whether Bellatrix could keep the child or not. _

"_He allowed her to be born," she hissed. "He loves her." _

_Draco could have choked on the air he was inhaling. Childbirth had obviously driven his aunt to insanity; he was willing to bet that Lord Voldemort had never loved anything or anyone in his life. The snake was the closest living creature to him, and even then he didn't show Nagini any warmth. He treated her with care, certainly, but there was no fondness in his actions as one might show towards a pet. _

"_If you think that, Bellatrix," Lucius said coldly, "then you are a fool."_

"_He won't take her from me," she insisted. "Not now." _

"_He wasn't aware it would be a girl, Bella," Narcissa interjected gently. "It is quite possible that he let you keep the child with the expectation that he would have a son." _

_A flicker of doubt crossed Bellatrix's face. "He would not take her," she said, but her voice wavered. _

"_Perhaps not," Narcissa told her soothingly. "But just in case… you should think about who you would choose if the time comes. Your master or your child."_

* * *

_Bellatrix wasn't the motherly type, it was easy to say. Although her daughter was the offspring of the Dark Lord, neither love for her child nor her sister's advice to remain in bed kept her from attending the Battle of Hogwarts only a few weeks after the birth. _

_Perhaps Draco should have felt guilty for feeling so little emotion towards his aunt, but he couldn't help his reaction to the news of his aunt's fate. It wasn't grief for her that flooded his mind when he heard that she was dead, nor did he feel pity for her orphaned daughter, it was the terrible thought of '_what on earth are we going to do with her?'

* * *

"_Right, so you know what you're going to do?" Draco asks for the thousandth time. Narcissa nods, and he can tell that she's holding back tears. "You can't fall to pieces, mother," Draco presses. "For the baby's_ _sake." _

_Narcissa had always had her own, unique strength. It gave her the power to endure anything – given time. But she'd always had her family by her side when it really mattered, and Draco was worried that, in the coming weeks, when her husband and her son were in Azkaban and she was on her own, she'd struggle to do what needed to be done. _

_His trial was in three hours, and he held little hope of escaping prison. He knew he'd serve his time; he had no qualms with it. He hoped it would be a short sentence; something less than life. He couldn't imagine he'd get off completely, though. _

_Narcissa had a little more time of freedom; her trial was not until next week. Up until now, they'd both been under house arrest. Lucifer had not been given such treatment; he was being held at the ministry until his trial. Since the end of the war, it had just been Narcissa, Draco, and _it.

_Draco knew his mother's sentence would be shorter than his own; unlike her husband and son, she'd never taken the mark. She'd still serve time, though; she'd harboured Voldemort himself under her roof. "I understand how important this is, Draco dear," Narcissa said gently. "I want the best for her too. She _is_ my own flesh and blood."_

_Draco nodded tersely. His eyes flicked to the cot in the corner, where the yet-unnamed child was lying. He resented her presence, for taking up so much of his last moments of freedom. For stealing one of his last moments with his mother in what would probably be a very long time. _

"_Goodbye, Mother," he said softly. _

_She stepped forwards and embraced him. "I love you, Draco." _

* * *

_He arrived early, although he wasn't sure that the show of punctuality could make much impact on the Wizengamot. To his surprise, there was already someone waiting outside the courtroom. _

"_Potter?" _

_Potter smiled grimly. "You powers of deduction never cease to amaze me," he said dryly. _

"_Is the fact I'm going down not enough for you?" Draco said bitterly. "Do you have to make sure I'm locked up for the longest amount of time possible? Or have you just shown up to watch the spectacle of my trial?"_

_Potter's voice was infuriatingly mild. "Oh, no," he says. "I'm here to testify." _

_Draco's heart sinks. The testimony of the _saviour _carries some weight, and his circumstances already looked grim. With Potter going against him, he'd be going down for life. _

_At that point, the door swung open and an elderly-looking witch stepped out. "The trial of Mr Draco Malfoy is about to begin," she said in a no-nonsense voice. "May all who wish to act as witnesses or to view the trial in progress step into the courtroom now." _

"_Time to face the kraken," Potter said to Draco._

_Draco just gave him a confused look. "Time to what?" _

"_Never mind," Potter said, shaking his head. "It's a muggle saying." _

_And with that he led the way into the grey room. _

* * *

"_The charges stand thusly: Mr Malfoy is accused of murder, attempted murder, harbouring a known criminal…" her voice droned on and on; Draco stopped listening. What was the point when they were going to send him down regardless of what he said or did? No fancy words could save him now. _

"_Before Mr Malfoy takes the stand, will anyone speak in his defence?" the woman asked. There was a pause for someone to volunteer – a formality only, as everyone in the room knew. No one would stand up for a Death Eater. _

_The entire room was taken by surprise, however, when Potter cleared his throat. _

"_I'd like to act as witness for the defence," he said. _

_Draco might have fallen of his chair if he hadn't been cuffed to it. _

* * *

_Potter did better than Draco might have ever believed. He started right back in sixth year and recalled everything he knew of Draco's life at the time. He skipped over things that made Draco look bad, and emphasised the few moments in which Draco looked good, like when he couldn't bring himself to kill Dumbledore. Facts were twisted, and when the room was dismissed for the Wizangamot to make their decision, Draco walked out of the room almost believing in his innocence. _

_There was a few moments of awkward silence in which Draco looked everywhere but Potter. Finally, the other boy found the courage to break it. _

"_I'm sorry about your father," he said. _

"_Are you?" Draco asked, genuinely surprised. "I would have thought you would have been in full support of a life-sentence." _

"_Oh, I was," Potter replied. "I'm sorry about the effect it must have on you and your mother, though." There's a pause in which Draco tries and fails to think of something to say. "This war… it leaves scars on us all, no matter what part we did or didn't play in it." _

_Before Draco can reply, the door swung ominously open once more. The pair look at each other, in that instance connected by the weight that rested on these next few minutes. Neither of them voiced it, but they were both thinking it._

_Surely that had been too fast?_

* * *

_The words floated through the air and across his hazy vision, but he couldn't quite believe them. "The sum of five thousand galleons to be paid within three months", "Four years home detention" and "Two additional years wandless" were all phrases that belonged to someone else's life. There was no way he could be so lucky to get off that lightly. He glanced at Potter; only a small, happy twitch of his mouth told Draco that he had heard correctly. _

_Then the courtroom was dismissed. Draco left it in a daze, unable to believe this was really happening. It was like he was living a page of someone else's life. _

"_Why?" he asked Potter, as soon as they were out of the crowded room. _

_Potter looked at him enigmatically for a moment. "I imagine it's because they're trying to save space in Azkaban," he replied, deliberately misunderstanding the question. "They've locked up so many people already; they need the room for the more dangerous criminals." _

"_That's not what I meant," Draco replied. _

_Potter sighed. "Look, Malfoy, we've had our differences," he said. "But we were children. As an adult, I think I can tell the difference between a Death Eater and someone who went along with things because they had to."_

"_You're still trying to be the saviour the press has made you out to be," Draco observed. _

_Strangely, Potter's mouth twitched. "If you'll remember, the press hasn't always had good things to say about me," he replied. "And I doubt they'll approve of me testifying for Death Eaters." _

_Draco inclined his head in agreement. _

"_I'm standing up for what I think is right," Potter continued. "They can say what they like about me, but they'll never say I didn't do that." _

"_Just remember that history is always written by the winning side, Potter," Draco said. They reached the end of the corridor and Potter stopped. Draco realised this was where the pair of them went their separate ways. "Don't be so quick to count on a noble retelling."_

"_I know," Potter said. "I don't intend to be the loser in this battle." He held out his hand. _

_Draco was surprised at the gesture, but he shook it firmly. "Thank you," he said, sincerely. _

"_Don't mention it," Potter said. Draco thought he was being polite, then he pulled a face and added, "Seriously, it's Hermione you should be thanking. She wrote most of my testimony. I just had to remember it."_

_The day was full of unexpected events, apparently. "Thank her for me, then, will you?" he asked. _

_Potter inclined his head. "I will," he replied. With that, he released Draco's hand and turned away. _

_As Draco watched Potter walk in the other direction, a thought struck him. "Potter!" he called out. Potter turned back. _

"_Yeah?" he asked. _

"_Is your hero complex exhausted yet, or do you still have it in you to help out another person of Malfoy blood?" Draco asked. _

"_If you're referring to your mother then I can tell you I already intend to testify on her behalf," Potter replied. _

"_She wasn't who I was referring to, although thank you." The amount of gratitude he had had to bestow on Potter today was beginning to hurt his teeth. _

"_Then who?" Potter asked. _

* * *

"_A baby?" Potter asked Draco, when he saw the small, pink human in the cot. "Why... Is he your brother? How am I supposed to help him?" _

"_It's a she," Draco responded absently. "And she's my cousin." _

_He waited a few moments for Potter to figure it all out. He could pinpoint the exact moment that it happened, because Potter's expression turned to one of surprise. "Bellatrix's?" he asked unnecessarily. "I still don't see…."_

"_That's because you don't know who the father is." _

* * *

_Potter was surprisingly good at holding babies, Draco thought absently as he watched the dark-haired man cradle the girl, rocking her gently back and forth. Draco couldn't even touch her without shuddering yet._

_Narcissa had returned with refreshments; tea for Potter and Draco, and something a little bit stronger for herself. She watched Potter hold the child with beady eyes. "Does she have a name?" Potter asked. Both Narcissa and Draco shook their heads. _

"_Bella… had little to do with her," Narcissa said hesitantly. "She died only a few weeks after she gave birth."_

"_And Riddle?" Potter asked. It took Draco a few moments to realise he was referring to the Dark Lord by his given name._

"_He never saw her," Draco replied. "We assume he knew of her existence but, before the battle of Hogwarts, he had other things concerning him." _

"_I suppose he would have," Potter said. There was silence for a moment as all three of them watched the baby grip Potters finger and pull it towards her mouth. "What are we going to do with her?" he asked eventually. _

"_We were going to put her in a muggle orphanage," Draco replied. "When Mother and I thought we would both be sent to Azkaban. Obviously now, though, the circumstances have changed." _

"_Have they?" Potter asked sharply. _

_Draco was surprised, but before he could reply, Narcissa spoke up. "Of course they have," she said. "If we are free-" _

"_I wouldn't call home detention 'free'," Potter interrupted. "You'll both be wandless and imprisoned in the Manor, at the very least. A large amount of your fortune will be depleted due to the fines-"_

"_We'll still have house-elves," Narcissa snapped back. "And the Malfoy fortune is far more extensive than you can possibly imagine-"_

"_Enough to bribe the ministry to let you keep her?" Potter demanded. Narcissa fell silent. _

_And that was the crux of the issue, Draco knew. Not _how _to raise the child, for that could doubtless be solved. The issue wasn't that at all._

_It was how to protect her from a world that would be baying for her blood. _

"_Look," Potter said, more gently. "I know you'd like to raise her. Ordinarily I'd agree." Draco doubted he was speaking honestly, there, but he let it slide. "If she was a normal child-"_

"_She _is _a normal child!" Narcissa interjected heatedly. _

"_I can see that," Potter said, with an air of forced calmness. "But that's because I'm holding her, and she's trying to bite my finger. The rest of the world can't see that she's just a normal baby, and it's them you have to convince. Even if you did fight the ministry for custody of her, she'd always be an outcast. _Always_. That's not something that should ever be inflicted upon a child, no matter… no matter who their parents were." _

_Narcissa looked like she was going to reply sharply, but Draco cut in before her. "What do you suggest?" he asked Potter. _

_Potter looked down at the child he was holding. She let go of his finger and reached for his glasses. Smiling, he bent his head forward and let her grab them. _

_Draco wondered how this tiny, innocent thing could cause such a problem. Here she lay, clutching the glasses of the most famous man in the wizarding world, not knowing that her entire future was being decided for her in these few crucial minutes. _

"_Instinctively I oppose the orphanage idea," Potter mused, "if only because it feels like history repeating itself. But I think you're right; the muggle world is probably the best place for her." _

"_She doesn't belong there," Narcissa said almost tearfully. _

"_They'll accept her there," Potter said. "Like the wizarding world never will. And she'll come to Hogwarts eventually, just like every other witch or wizard." _

"_She'll have a muggle upbringing, though," Narcissa said. _

_Potter bit his lip. "You say that like it's a bad thing." He quickly continues before Draco or Narcissa can say anything. "I've already said that I'm not totally happy about it either."_

"_For different reasons than we are, I imagine," Draco pointed out. _

"_If there was another way…" Narcissa said._

"_I don't think there is, though," Potter said, rescuing his glasses. "If there was, we'd take it."_

* * *

_She had no possessions; her residence at Malfoy Manor was always supposed to be temporary. She made a sad sight, wrapped up only in blankets with a small bag of clothes that had been knitted for her by the house elves. "She should have a name," Potter said. "Before she goes. A Black name." _

_They all thought for a moment, before Narcissa came up with a suggestion. "How about Cebelrai?" _

_Even Draco hesitated at that. _

"_I know that the usual pureblood naming system is to pick a strange name and go with it regardless of popular opinion," Potter said carefully. "But don't you think that, given the circumstances, a name that's a little less… conspicuous might be appropriate."_

"_You're probably right," Draco said quickly. "After all, she is going to spend the next eleven years with muggles."_

_Narcissa's mouth tightened. _

"_How about Maia?" Potter suggested quickly. "Like the star?"_

"_Hm," Narcissa said. "Maia." She thought about it for a few more moments, and both Potter and Draco held their breath. Finally, she announced her verdict. "I like it," she said. _

_Draco quickly added his approval. Narcissa, who was holding her, carefully handed her over to Potter. "You shouldn't apparate with children under five," she said anxiously. _

"_I know," Potter said soothingly. "I'm taking muggle transport." He stooped to pick up the bag. "I guess this is it, then," he said awkwardly. _

_Draco nodded. "Good luck," he said, although he had no idea what he was wishing Potter luck for. Maybe for everything._

_Potter's face was as serious. "And you," he replied._

_Draco and Narcissa saw him out and watched him walk away. He felt a slightly bad for the relief that washed over him as he realised it was the end of an ordeal._

_The end of an ordeal, and the beginning of a new life. _

* * *

_The man sloshed through the puddles in the Manchester street, ducking his hooded head to keep the rain from his eyes. In his arms was what appeared to be a thick bundle of cloth in a basket, which he held protectively to his chest; closer inspection showed it was, in fact, a child. The man moved surreptitiously and with a purpose; an onlooker might have been suspicious that the child was stolen. _

_There were no onlookers, though. There were still a number of hours before the sun should, theoretically, rise. Of course, when it did, it would be hidden by the thick layer of clouds coating the sky. _

_He halted suddenly, midway down the street, appearing to have found what he was looking for. He turned to the left, walking towards a grey stone building with a worn sign outside it saying "The Ann Murdoch Halfway House."_

_He carefully placed the child on the doorstep, taking pains to ensure the basket was secure. From his coat pocket he pulled out a piece of paper, which he tucked down between the wicker and the wrappings. A small hand wormed its way out of the tightly-wrapped blankets to grab at it. _

_Straightening up, he knocked on the door and waited a few moments. When there was no response, he knocked again; louder and longer this time. A light flicked on, and scuffling resounded from inside the house. _

_A few moments later, the scraping of a key in the lock could be heard. Seemingly satisfied with this, the man turned away and began walking back down the short path. _

_The door opened to reveal a small woman in a pair of patched pyjamas. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes bleary, showing that she, like the rest of the street, had been fast asleep until the knock on the door rudely woke her._

"_Excuse me, sir," she called out to the man's retreating back. "You can't jus' leave it 'ere." The man didn't turn back, and she began to step forwards. _

_Suddenly, there was a crack that made the woman jump, and the figure disappeared before her eyes. She blinked, hard, and when he didn't reappear in her vision, she raised her hands to her eyes and rubbed them. _

_There was still no sign of him. Shaking her head, she turned to the basket left on her step. Surprisingly, the child hadn't stirred at the loud sound. _

"_I don' suppose anyone woul' believe me if I told 'em what 'appened," the woman said idly to the child, tucking the blanket in tighter. The child might not have been startled by the sound, but she had been wriggling a bi, and her wrappings had come loose. _

_The woman's fingers hit the folded piece of paper, which she pulled out of the basket and opened. The lighting was dim, but the hall lamp gave just enough illumination for her to be able to make out the hastily-written words. _

Her name is Maia.

May her second chance at life prove fairer than her first.

_The woman frowned. "Maia, is it?" she said aloud. "Well, we got all sort round here. Jane's coming 'round in the morning; she'll sort you out." _

_Whoever this Jane person was must have met Maia's approval because she smiled widely up at the woman bending over her. Sighing, the woman lifted the basket and carried her into the hall. _

_As the door clicked shut, Maia let out a loud gurgle. _

_Further inside the house, another child began to cry. _


	2. Chapter 1

Fumbling fingers hastily tore at the envelope, breaking the seal almost carelessly. Usually, Teddy would be more careful (and he certainly would be sure to keep the seal intact), but he'd been waiting eleven years for this letter. Right now, he just wanted to read it.

His grandmother watched from across the kitchen, beaming with pride and happiness. In the excitement only an eleven year old boy could possess, Teddy completely missed the tears that lingered in the corners of her eyes, and by the time he'd looked up again she'd blinked them away.

"What does it say, Teddy?" she prompted once he'd silently read it for a suitably long time.

Grinning widely, he skipped over the boring nonsense at the top and began reading out the letter.

"Dear Mr Lupin," he began, in his best imitation of a formal voice. "We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." At the name of the school, his grin (which had never really gone away) returned with full force. "Please find enclosed a list of all books and necessary equipment."

At that, he had to pause to pull out the second piece of parchment and waved the list excitedly at his grandmother. "See, we'll need to go to Diagon Alley to get all this!" he exclaimed. "Can we go today? Please?"

She laughed at his enthusiasm. "How about we go tomorrow?" she suggested. "Harry's coming over for lunch today, remember?"

"Oh, right," Teddy remembered with chagrin. Then he perked up. "Can he come with us then?"

"Maybe," the witch replied. "But not until tomorrow." Her voice was firm, and Teddy seemed to realise that he wouldn't get her to budge on this matter, and so he went back to reading out his letter.

The elderly woman smiled and began making a cup of tea. However, before Teddy even reached his third word, there was disturbance in the fireplace when it suddenly sprang to life, with green flames billowing in the empty grate. Far from showing alarm, the pair treated this as though it was perfectly normal. The boy whooped with delight and the witch smiled and grabbed a second teacup.

"Harry!" Teddy exclaimed, rushing towards the fireplace as a man in long black robes stepped forth. "I got the letter! I got the letter!"

"Nice to see you too," Harry replied dryly, taking the letter from the young boy's hands and inspecting it with a sombre eye. "So you're off to Hogwarts, then?"

"Grandma says we can go shopping tomorrow. Can you come?"

Harry smiles at his godson. "I don't see why I can't take a day off work. The office won't explode without me. Well, actually, it might, but it'd probably do that whether I was there or not. I'll come around eight, shall I?"

"Grandma said she'd get me an owl!" Teddy said. "She said so last week."

"That's exciting," said Harry. Then he read out an excerpt from the letter he was still holding. "_We await your owl by no later than 31 July_. Have you sent that off yet?"

Teddy shook his head. "I'll go get some parchment!" he said as he dashed out of the room.

"Hello Andromeda," Harry said dryly as the witch placed a steaming cup of tea in front of him and sat down opposite. "Nice to see you."

"Hello Harry," she sighed tiredly. "He's got himself in a right state, hasn't he?"

"He's excited," shrugged Harry.

"I can remember Nymphadora at that age," Andromeda said. "Exactly the same; she was bouncing off the walls, turning her hair all different sorts of colours."

"Yes, I had noticed his bright orange curls," Harry commented. "I thought he might be trying to be a clown."

Andromeda laughed. "If I remember rightly, Dora went pink with polkadots when she got her letter."

Harry didn't laugh, although a small smile did touch his face. He was remembering Teddy's father, and wondering how Remus would have reacted to his own Hogwarts letter. With no small amount of disbelief, surely; he'd probably never imagined he _could _go to Hogwarts.

Not for the first time, Harry wished that Teddy's parents _had _been here to experience this moment. If they'd lived, it'd be _them _taking Teddy shopping for robes and books and equipment. It'd be _them _buying him an owl.

Harry made himself push such gloomy thoughts aside. This was a happy occaision.

"I bet you'll be happy to get the house to yourself again, though," Harry commented.

"I'll certainly be much quieter," Andromeda said. "Although it'll feel a bit like an empty nest."

"Come round to ours for a few hours," Harry said. "It's a mad house. You'll soon be thankful for the peace and quiet again."

Andromeda laughed and at that moment Teddy dashed back in the room, his arms filled with parchment, a quill and a pottle of ink. "I'm going to write it," he announced. "But I think someone will have to tell me what to put."

* * *

Teddy woke later than usual the next morning; he'd laid in bed for hours the night before, too excited to sleep. As a consequence, by the time he got up, he could already smell the toast his grandmother was cooking down in the kitchen.

He got dressed in record speed and pounded down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet and breaking his neck in the process. After that he slowed down a little, although he still managed to run into the table at full speed and wind himself slightly.

Andromeda shook her head. "I swear," she said, placing a plate piled high with toast at his usual seat. "You're just like your mother was when you get excited. Usually you're very well coordinated but when something interesting happens, you cause disasters like nothing else."

Teddy took his seat sheepishly and bit into a piece of toast. He was almost too excited to eat, but he didn't want to get hungry later. His grandmother seemed convinced that their shopping jaunt would take up the best part of the day.

He couldn't actually remember anyone explaining to him why he was raised by his grandmother (and sort of by Harry and Ginny). No one had ever sat him down and told him that his parents had died fighting in the war against Voldemort. It'd always just been something he'd known.

But even though he was technically an orphan, he'd never really felt like one. He'd always thought he must have the largest family in the world – it might seem like it was only his Grandmother and him, but only a fireplace or an owl away was Harry and Ginny, and James, Albus and Lily, and Hermione and Ron with Rose and Hugo, and Grandma and Grandpa Weasley, and Bill and Fleur and Victoire and Dominique, and… well, basically, it felt as though he had a large amount of aunts, uncles and cousins.

In fact, he'd been nine before he realised that the Weasleys weren't actually related to him by blood. Not that it really mattered to him.

He did remember asking Harry about his father once, though. His Grandma talking a lot about his mother, usually when he'd done something that particularly reminded her of her daughter. But she was always very quiet about the man Nymphadora had married.

"_I don't think Grandma likes my dad very much," Teddy had said to Harry sincerely._

_Harry had looked surprised. "What makes you say that?" he asked, a little sharply. _

"_She never really talks about him," Teddy said. "I mean, she does if I ask about him, but she's always saying stuff about my mum. She never says stuff about him." _

_Harry sighed and took of his glasses so he could clean them on his sweater. "Your grandmother loved your mum very much," he said slowly. "And she misses her a lot. She never knew your father quite as well. He hadn't been with your mother very long before she had you, and back then it was… a little complicated." _

"_Because of the war?" Teddy asked. All the adults were always going on about the war. He got the impression that it was quite a big thing. _

"_No," Harry said. "The war made all our lives harder, but it certainly didn't come between your parents."_

"_Then why?" Teddy asked. _

_Harry sighed. "I think you're still a bit young for me to tell you the full truth," he said. "But I will tell you this. The only thing that matters about your father was that he was a good man - a great man. He was an exceptional person and a courageous hero, and he died so that you could live in a better world. No matter what anyone thinks of your father, they can never deny that." _

"_But my mum loved him, right?" Teddy pressed. _

"_Yes," Harry said with a smile. "She loved him more than anything. More than anyone - except for you." _

Teddy always wondered what exactly Harry hadn't told him in that conversation, but he hadn't pressed the matter (although now he was eleven, he did wonder if "When you're older" meant "When you're at Hogwarts"). He figured that he'd find out eventually, though; in the meantime, Teddy would be content with the knowledge that his father had been a good person, no matter what his grandmother thought.

At that moment, the flames in the fireplace turned green once more. Teddy waited expectantly for Harry to step through (even though it was still only seven thirty) but nothing happened.

He looked down, surprised, and saw that just Harry's head was hovering in the flames. "Teddy?" Harry called. "I can see your legs. Can you get your grandmother for me?"

There was no need; upon hearing Harry's voice, Andromeda bustled out of the kitchen. "Harry?" she asked, starting when she saw his head in the fire. Quickly she knelt down. "Is something the matter?"

Harry grimaced. "I'm going to have to take a rain check," he said. "Something's come up."

"Oh dear," Andromeda said. "Are you sure you can't…?"

Harry shook his head. "'Fraid not," he said. "It's a mess I've sort of helped make. They've sent a girl raised by muggles a Hogwarts letter by owl rather than a wizard to explain it; her parents are very confused. The ministry have taken over from the school – even though it was an error with their filing to begin with. I said I'd go along; I don't trust them not to botch it up."

"Well, if you must," Andromeda sighed.

"I might still see you there," Harry said, forcing a cheerful tone. "She has to get her books too. If she goes today, we'll probably run into each other. If not, then I'll come and tag along for the afternoon."

"That'll be lovely," Andromeda said, a bit more happily. "Give my love to Ginny."

"Will do," replied Harry. "Tell Teddy I'm sorry."

"He'll understand," Andromeda assured him. "Bye Harry." And with that, Harry's head vanished from the fireplace with a pop.

Teddy most certainly didn't understand. Why was some muggle-born girl more important than he was? But he nodded up at his grandmother when she unnecessarily relayed the news and then rushed upstairs to get his list of books. Then he had to grab his shoes and cloak and remember to feed Martha, his Grandmother's owl, and, by the time he was stepping into the fireplace, awash with excitement, he'd almost completely forgotten that Harry had been supposed to come with them.


	3. Chapter 2

Maya sighed as the car pulled into the driveway and contemplated not getting out. She really didn't have a lot of energy; after running around all day shopping for her new school uniform, she was exhausted. But she knew that as soon as she got inside there was still unpacking and list-making and organising to do. It would be a tiresome end to a long day.

Maya had been going shopping with her parents for her new school things. She was due to start at her new secondary school in September, and her mother (as anxious as always) had decided it was best to get in early. They'd been hoping to get all the shopping done that day.

Their plans had not worked out.

It'd stared with a rude shop assistant who'd snarkily informed Maya and her mother that they "simply didn't stock that blazer" and that they'd have to drive halfway across town for it. _Then _the shop they were supposed to get her blouse from informed them that they were missing half the sizes due to a delayed order but they were welcome to search through the jumbled garments in the miniscule hope that they might find one. Sure enough, they didn't have a single one in Maya's size. Maya, already grumpy from the pain her feet were experiencing (she was attempting to wear in her new school shoes) would have been perfectly happy to pack it in there in favour of returning home and watching TV. Unfortunately for her, they still had school books to buy.

It was lucky they managed to buy them all before the car broke down and they'd been forced to call Maya's dad at his work and ask him to come rescue them. It'd taken him half an hour to get there and by that time Maya was regretting ever hearing the words "school shopping trip".

"I hope they manage to get your blouse in on time," Maya's mother fretted as they unloaded the car. "The lady in the shop didn't seem all that sure…"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Mum," Maya replied. Her mother was always worrying about things that would turn out perfectly well without help. "We've ordered them in plenty of time."

Secretly Maya too was praying fervently that the shop would get itself together. She didn't really have as much confidence in their organisational abilities as she sounded. She didn't want to be the only girl with the wrong uniform on her first day! It was bad enough being new, without making herself stand out.

She was so immersed in her worries about her uniform – and so tired from a full day of shopping – that she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings. Thus, it was very easy for her to lead the way through the front door, laden with shopping bags, and completely miss the solemn-looking owl sitting on the kitchen table.

Her mother, however, didn't. Letting out a startlingly-loud shriek, she dropped the bags she was carrying. "Walter, Walter, come quick! There's a bird in the kitchen!"

Maya's dad came rushing into the house almost instantly, at the same time Maya's attention was finally drawn to their patient guest. She quickly dropped the bags she was holding and prepared to cower out of the way at the slightest notice. She hadn't forgotten the amount of ornaments broken the time that sparrow had got into the lounge; she had no wish to participate in another fiasco of that sort.

"Uh, I'll be in my room," she said quickly, stepping around the bird carefully as to not startle it.

However, as she reached the door leading to the hallway, she paused. It was an odd bird, she realised, watching it. Her father was waving his arms wildly in an attempt to get it to move and her mother was still shrieking by the doorway. Surprisingly, the tawny owl didn't even flinch. Maya would have expected any bird to start flapping around, but it didn't. It just sat their stoically, watching her parents' antics with a look of utmost derision.

It took a few minutes for Maya's dad to also realise his tactics weren't working on the unflappable owl. "Eloise," he said, turning helplessly to his wife. "It's not budging."

"For heaven's sake, Walter!" she exclaimed shrilly, still cowering by the doorway. "Just shoo it away!"

"I'm trying!" Maya's dad said pathetically. "It won't move!"

"Dad," Maya said suddenly, having been scrutinising the owl the whole time. "What's that tied around its leg?"

Her dad turned back to the owl and blinked comically. "I don't know," he said. "Is it some sort of electronic tag?"

"It doesn't look like it," Maya said, approaching the owl slowly. She didn't know why she bothered being so careful; if her parents' attempts hadn't managed to startle it then she doubted _anything _would. "It looks like a piece of string."

As she got closer to the owl, it made the first sudden move she'd seen it make since she walked into the house.

It stuck out its leg.

In doing so, it jerked the string and, with a small gasp, Maya saw what was tied to it. "Look, it's a letter!" she exclaimed excitedly. "The owl has a letter attached to its leg!"

"Don't be ridiculous," her mother said from the doorway. "It can't have. It's an _owl_."

"She's right, Eloise," Walter said, approaching the owl slowly. The tawny owl just blinked patiently up at him in a very dignified manner. "I think… I think we're supposed to take it."

Maya had just been thinking the same thing. "I'll see if I can untie it," she said decidedly. The poor thing couldn't be comfortable with such a heavy thing tied to its foot, at any rate.

"Don't touch it, Maya dear," her mother said worriedly. "It's probably got fleas! You'll catch something."

"You don't say that about Blanket," Maya pointed out. "Speaking of Blanket, where is he? I'm surprised he hasn't eaten this bundle of feathers already. Do we have any scissors?"

Blanket was her brother's cat and he almost always showed up whenever there was drama going on, even if it was only to try tripping people up by winding himself around their legs.

"Here," her dad handed her a pair of scissors before stepping back nervously.

Carefully, Maya approached the owl. "There we are," she whispered reassuringly at it. "Don't move now, that's right. You just sit there and we'll have this horrible letter off you in no time." Slowly and smoothly she reached for the bit of string tied around the bird's leg. He didn't move other than swivelling his head around to watch her as she snipped the string.

She moved back slowly. The owl shook itself and lowered his foot, but he didn't move.

That done, she looked at the front of the envelope which she saw, to her surprise, was addressed to her – although they'd spelt her name wrong.

_Maia Webb,  
9 Avenue Road,  
Feltham,  
Greater London_

Without pausing, she tore it open.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall_

_Dear Miss Webb,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. _

_Yours Sincerely,  
Professor Bones,  
Deputy Headmistress._

She realised that there were two pieces of the stiff paper that she'd pulled from the envelope; she guessed that must be the "list of equipment". She didn't look at it; she was too busy incredulously reading over the letter again.

"What does it say?" her father asked eventually.

"I think it must be some kind of prank," she said, handing the letter over. "An elaborate one, though. It says something about a magician school or something."

While her father read the letter, she quickly scanned the book list. Who on earth was"Bathilda Bagshot"? She'd never heard of her, but apparently she was supposed to buy a textbook by her.

"Well, I have no idea what this is supposed to be," her father said, "but let's focus on getting rid of this owl first." He made a small shooing motion in its direction, but the owl just clicked its beak impatiently.

"Go on, fly away," her dad urged. Maya had expected it to leave now they'd removed the letter, but it sat there as stonily as ever.

"It says "we await your owl"," Maya said, rereading the letter. "Maybe we have to tie a reply to its leg."

"That's absurd," her mother said from the doorway, but her father stroked his beard.

"It's worth a try," he said slowly. "Grab me some paper and a pen, will you?"

Maya did as she was bid and watched as her father wrote out a short reply.

_Dear Professor Bones,_

_Thank you for your letter, but Maya is already registered to start at Lampton Secondary School this September._

_Yours Sincerely,  
Walter Webb_

"I don't think you had to be quite so polite, Dad," Maya told him as he folded it up.

"Do we have any string?" was his only reply.

"Here," she said, handing him what was left of the string she'd cut off the owl. "Use this."

He tied up the letter and attached it once more to the owl's foot. The bird sat there as unmoving as ever. Then, as soon as Walter stepped back, the owl took off without him even having to shoo it. It flapped its way out of the house via the front door they'd left open (causing Maya's mother to scream and duck for cover) and then it was gone.

They unpacked Maya's school things and Eloise left to pick up Rob, who was at a friend's house. Over dinner that night, Maya told her brother all about the owl in their kitchen, who was very disappointed to have missed it.

And that would have been the end of that strange event, had it not been for the knock on the door the next morning.

* * *

Thanks to the amazing Whimsical Catastrophe for her betaing skills!


	4. Chapter 3

**Beta: The amazing, wonderful, fantastic, eagle-eyed Whimsical Catastrophe 3**

When Maya's mother opened the front door the next morning, she must have been very surprised to see such strange men standing on her doorstep. Well, Maya thought, as they traipsed into her living room, one looked relatively normal. He had a pale complexion, glasses, and was wearing a red sweater; the only thing weird about him was a scar in the exact shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead, and Maya only saw that because he ran his hands through his unruly black hair. The other man, however, was wearing a _cape_.

"Sorry to intrude, Mrs Webb," the normal-looking man was saying. "Especially so early in the morning."

"Not at all, not at all," Eloise said in her flustered manner. "Come in and have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"That'd be lovely," the man replied pleasantly. "White, two sugars, please. Mosley, what about you?"

The caped-man standing beside him shook his head.

"And you must be Maya," the man said with a smile when he spotted her. He held out his hand, which she shook. "I'm Harry Potter – please, call me Harry. I'm here about the owl from yesterday."

"Oh," she said. Then, for lack of anything else to say, she added, "Was he yours? He was very well trained."

Harry laughed. "He wasn't exactly mine," he told her. "I'll explain it all in a moment." He took a seat on the couch looking perfectly at home while Mosley stood awkwardly to the side. Harry sighed. "Honestly, Mosley, have a seat," he told him. Mosley did so, but looked just as uncomfortable sitting.

Maya's mother bustled back into the kitchen carrying two cups of tea. Harry thanked her and took a seat before he started talking.

"So, I understand you received a letter from Hogwarts yesterday," he said almost casually.

"We got a letter from _somewhere_," Maya said. "I've never heard of this 'Hogwarts'."

"Maya!" her mother scolded her. "Don't be rude!"

But Harry laughed again. "No, it's quite alright," he said. "I was a bit sceptical of Hogwarts too when I first got told about it."

Maya leaned forwards. "It said it was for witches," she said. Her voice was partly accusing, as though she expected it to be a lie. But she'd _seen _that owl; that wasn't normal.

"And so it is," Harry said. "Hogwarts isn't your normal school. It's a school of magic."

Maya couldn't help her next words – they came out before she could stop herself. "Magic doesn't exist," she scoffed.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but, before he could say anything, Mosley pulled out what looked like a stick of wood and pointed it at the island in their kitchen. There was a loud noise and Maya blinked hard, not quite believing what she'd just witnessed.

A loud neigh convinced her. Her kitchen counter had just been turned into a horse.

Beside her, her mother fainted.

* * *

"I'm really sorry about that," Harry apologised again as Maya patted the nervous horse. "Mosley's just… a little impatient." They'd spread a still-unconscious Eloise out on the sofa, waiting for her to recover and a furious looking Harry had sent Mosley outside.

"It's fine," Maya replied. She pulled a carrot out of the fridge and began feeding it to the chestnut mare standing in the kitchen. "But what-"

"Wow! A horse!" Maya was interrupted by an exclamation from the doorway. Nine-year old Rob was standing there, looking at the large creature with wide eyes. "Mum and Dad are going to be so angry!"

"She's not mine," Maya informed him as he gingerly approached the horse and began patting it. "Rob, this is Harry. He's here about the owl from yesterday. Harry, this is Rob. He's my little brother."

Harry smiled. "It's nice to meet you," he told the younger boy.

"Yeah," Rob said. "So was the owl your pet or something?"

"No," Harry said patiently. "We use owls to carry messages."

"Like postmen?" Rob asked, still patting the horse.

"Something like that," Harry said.

"I have a question," Maya said. "What are we going to do with this horse? I'd love to keep her, but we don't have stables or anything."

"Oh, I'll sort it out," Harry said, and he pulled out a stick of wood almost identical to the one Mosley had used and waved it at the horse. Before Maya's eyes, it morphed back into a bench.

Rob looked amazed. "How'd you do that?" he demanded.

Harry's eyes twinkled. "Magic."

"Can you turn it back?" Rob asked eagerly.

"I can," Harry replied, "but I won't. I imagine your mother is quite fond of her kitchen the way it is."

"Yeah, but I'd rather have the horse!" Rob replied.

Harry laughed. "We should probably wake your mother up," Harry told him, crossing to where she lay spread-eagle on the sofa. Bending over her, he waved his wand and muttered "_Rennervate."_ Slowly, Eloise's eyes flickered open.

"You alright, Mum?" Maya asked anxiously.

"Yes, dear," her mother replied almost dreamily. "Why are you eating a carrot?"

Maya realised she was still holding the horse's half-finished carrot. "I was feeding it to the horse," she said.

"So that wasn't a dream?" Maya's mother asked.

"No, Mrs Webb, that wasn't a dream." That was Harry, and he was looking very business-like. "Your daughter has magic, and she has a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where she can complete her formal education. While it is not compulsory for you to send her there by any means, it is strongly advised that she attends so that she can learn to control her magic."

"Oh dear," said Maya's mother. "We've just bought all her books."

"We have receipts," Maya reminded her mother. "We can take them all back."

"Oh yes, of course we can."

"Mrs Webb, would it be alright if I spoke to you alone for a minute?" Harry asked.

"Certainly," she said. "Maya, Rob, go up to your rooms for a minute."

Maya scowled and Rob complained. "Why?" he whined. "I don't want to!"

"Go!"

"Come on, pea-brain," Maya told him. "Let's go." She led her brother out of her room, shutting the door behind her.

"I want to listen!" Rob exclaimed.

"So do I," Maya told him quietly. "And we can. Walk away loudly." When they got halfway up the hall, she stopped her brother. "You can't make a _sound_," she told him sternly.

He nodded sincerely, and the pair tiptoed back down the hallway until they reached the door to the kitchen. Simultaneously they pressed their ears to the door.

"I can't hear anything, can you?" Rob said.

"No," Maya said, frowning. "That's not right. I've listened to Mum and Dad heaps of times before. I can usually hear fine. That man must be doing something magical to stop us from eavesdropping."

"That's cheating," Rob said.

Maya agreed wholeheartedly. "Come on," she said. "The window's open. Let's see if we can hear anything outside."

But the window wasn't open; not anymore, at any rate. "What are we going to do?" Rob asked.

Maya thought hard. "Maybe if we can open the front door really quietly, they won't hear us," she said.

Ducking below the window's line of sight, Maya crept around to the front of the house. Trying her best for absolute silence, she slowly turned the door handle and pushed the door open, praying that the hinges wouldn't squeak.

They didn't.

Her and Rob shared a triumphant grin before tiptoeing inside. They hid from sight behind the alcove doorframe, ears straining for any loose threads of conversation.

"Ah, here they come now," Harry was saying. "Come out Maya, I've got something I need to ask you.

"Damn it," Maya whispered and stepped out into the kitchen. Behind her, Rob followed.

"If you'd like, we can get your schoolbooks today," Harry said, "or I can come back another day and we can go then."

"Why do you need to come with me?" Maya asked. "Can't Mum take me?"

"She can if you'd like," Harry said amiably. "But it's a good deal harder for muggles to find their way around than it is for wizards."

"What's a muggle?" Rob asked at the same time Maya said, "Is that what I am then, a wizard?"

"Muggles are non-magical folk," he told Rob, before turning to Maya. "Technically, you're a witch," he said. "It's the same thing though. Just different genders."

"Am I a wizard?" Rob said. "Can I go to Maya's school too?"

"Maybe," Harry said vaguely. "I'm not sure if you've got magic or not. If you do, then you can go to Hogwarts."

"So I'm definitely going to Hogwarts?" Maya said. "I have no say in this?"

Harry hesitated, and Maya's mother picked up from him. "Of course you don't have to go if you don't want to," Maya's mother assured her daughter quickly. "But Harry's been telling me about this- this-"

"Hogwarts," Harry supplied.

"Hogwarts," Maya's mum said. "And it sounds like you should at least give it a go. If you don't like it, you can always come home."

"What do you mean, 'come home'?" Maya said, alarmed. "I'll be at home, won't I?"

"Hogwarts is a boarding school," Harry clarified. "You'll be able to come home for the holidays, but you'll spend the terms there."

"But all my friends are going to Lampton!" Maya said. "I won't know anyone at this Hogwarts place!"

"A lot of people start out like that," Harry said reassuringly, although Maya didn't find it reassuring at all. "You'll all be in the same boat."

"Look, I really think you've got the wrong person," Maya said. "I can't do magic. I _know _I can't do magic."

Harry frowned at this. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You've never done anything strange before? Maybe you've made something happen accidentally or maybe had weird things occur around you?"

Maya shook her head fervently. "I've never done _any_ magic," she insisted.

Harry seemed at a loss there. "Never talked to any animals or anything?" he asked curiously. "You seemed to have a way with that horse."

"I'm telling you," Maya said stubbornly. "I'm not magic."

"Well, some people don't show their magic," Harry said sceptically. Maya thought it was probably because he didn't believe her. "But that's nothing to worry about. Your name is on the list; I can promise you that you have magic."

"You should go, Maya," Rob said, tugging on her sleeve. "It sounds like fun. And then you can get one of those sticks and make me a horse!"

"You're not having a horse," Maya's mother said instantly.

"You're sure I'll be able to do magic?" Maya asked suspiciously.

"I'm sure," Harry said.

"Won't it be expensive, though?" Maya asked.

"There's a fund set up for muggleborn students and those with financial difficulties," Harry said, "and your parents can exchange muggle money for our currency at the wizarding bank if you need extra."

"What will I tell my friends?" Maya asked. "I can't tell them I'm a witch!"

"No," Harry said. "You can't. That's another thing; other than your family, you can't tell anyone about your magic. The muggle world has to remain separate from the magical one."

"How do I do that?" Maya asked. "I think they're going to notice if I just don't go to school."

"Maya dear," her mother said. "These are just small details. We can work them out. You just need to decide whether or not you'll be going to Hogwarts, and everything else will fall into place."

Maya bit her lip. "If I don't like it," she asked Harry, "can I leave?"

"Of course," he said.

"Then I'll give it a try."

Harry smiled. "Good. Now when would you like to go shopping for your school things?"


End file.
